The river lord Read online

  begged. 'All I need is a few details regarding this coming expedition.'

  Conflicting emotions fought briefly in Jason Colby's face before he appeared to make up his mind. 'Come and have a drink,' he said, 'and we'll talk about it. There's nothing particularly secret about the expedition. It's just that Mark wants it keeping out of the Press until he's verified the facts. There's a bar across the foyer there, or would you rather have some tea?'

  `Tea sounds heavenly.'.Keely's mind was racing, her memory file clicking open. Jason .Colby was not only Sir Mark's nephew, he was also his assistant, she recalled. There had been several mentions of his contribution to the book which had brought the name into the limelight. Who better as a substitute for the great man himself? No secret about the expedition, he had said, but there had to be something unusual about it to have elicited Ben Reynolds' interest the way it had. It was up to her to discover what that something was and act upon the knowledge in the interests of the magazine.

  They found comfortable seats in a small lounge leading off the main entrance hall, and Jason ordered English tea for two from an unsurprised waiter.

  `They seem to get a very cosmopolitan clientele in here,' he observed. 'I have the feeling you could ask for dragon's blood and still get no reaction.' He looked at her for a moment. 'Are you on your own in Manaus?'

  `I'm on my own, period,' Keely returned. 'Unless you count an editor back in London chewing his nails for a story from me.'

  His brows contracted a little. 'About this expedition?'

  `Not wholly. I work for World magazine. I'm here to do an article on the Amazonas as seen through the tourist's eyes.'

  His grin was attractive. 'Quite a project. What do you think of the "Green Hell" up to now?'

  `It's more like Eden, except that I haven't even caught a solitary glimpse of a serpent yet. It's as hot as I anticipated, and I already knew it rained almost every day. Apart from that I came out with an open mind. The old explorers have been dead a long time.'

  `You wouldn't think so if you went up river from here a few miles. It hasn't changed a great deal in thousands of years, much less fifty. Not that you're going to find any sixty-foot anacondas or foot-long centipedes, but the forest itself is awesome enough. It's a bit like being in a cathedral; you get that same sense of weighty silence and gloom. Take a few steps, turn around a few times and you're lost without a compass. That's the real danger.'

  She was watching the play of expression across his face as he spoke. Now she said softly, 'If you feel that way about it why go out there?'

  `It's my job ... or a part of it.' He was obviously regretting the brief revealment of inner feelings to someone who was to all intents and purposes a stranger. 'The Amazon basin contains species of practically every kind of plant life known. It's a botanist's paradise. Anyway, we travel mostly by river, so the question of getting lost doesn't arise. I was thinking more of people like Colonel Fawcett. He disappeared in the forest searching for his pre-Inca cities, and he'd known it for more than twenty years.'

  `And what,' asked Keely on a casual note, 'will Sir Mark be looking for on this trip you're about to make?'

  Jason Colby's glance was suddenly sharp. 'How did you get to know about it in the first place? We only arranged it a matter of days ago.'

  She pounced on the slip at once. 'Then it wasn't a part of your original plans when you came out to South America? That means it has to be something fairly special, I imagine.'

  `Fairly.' He was giving little away as yet. 'You didn't answer my question.'

  The arrival of the tea forestalled further conversation for the moment. When the waiter had gone again she said with frankness, 'My editor's sources are as much of a mystery to me as anyone else. He cabled me from London to check out the Colby expedition, and that's as much as I know. I'm hoping you'll tell me what it's all about.'

  His hesitation was apparent. 'I'm not supposed to be talking about it to anyone, much less the Press. For all we know the whole thing could turn out to be a wild goose chase. As you might know, Sir Mark isn't the kind to announce anything before it's an accomplished fact.'

  `I'm not the Press, though,' she argued. 'At least, not in the way you mean. I'm not likely to rush off home and into print in any hurry. I'm not even due back till the end of the month. If you'll just give me some idea of what it is you're going after I'll guarantee not to publish anything until you get back. How will that do?'

  `For me, fine. I can't always speak for my uncle.' He studied her a moment longer, then smiled and nodded. 'All right, I'll trust you for both of us. Immediate publicity certainly won't do any harm if we do find what we're looking for.' He paused again, this time with a certain deliberation. Did you ever hear of the Fire Flower?'

  She shook her head. 'Not that I remember. Should I have?'

  `I don't really suppose so, unless you happened to have read a very old book.' Nevertheless he sounded a mite disappointed. 'There was a rather obscure chap called Inman who came out here round about the time Fawcett was making his name and explored one or two of the tributaries off the Negro. He wrote a book about his experiences when he finally got back to England, full of the usual tales about murdering Indians and rivers crawling with piranha and caymen. It sold well because he had a rather good style, plus plenty of imagination, but the only thing in it that attracted any professional attention was a description he gave of a flower he claimed to have found. He waxed lyrical about its beauty; swore there was no other orchid known to man that could touch it, yet there was something in what he said that rang true in spite of his other exaggerations. He named it the Fire Flower because of its colours and the shape of its petals.'

  But no one else has seen it since?'

  `No. According to Inman it grew in one particular area of the forest, which doesn't follow the general pattern at all, as a matter of fact ... only he neglected to give the necessary details as to just how far up the Canidas and how far. into the forest. He claimed it was worshipped as a kind of talisman by a tribe of Indians and he only just escaped with his life in securing samples.'

  `He was alone?'

  `He had a couple of half-breeds with him, I think. It would take three of them to port a canoe round the rapids on the way up. The Canidas rises in the mountains.'

  `So no one could really verify the claim.'

  `No. And the samples were supposedly lost overboard during a storm along with most of his equipment.' `Convenient.'

  `Perhaps. He did actually make an attempt to retrace his steps a year or so later, but he got caught up in an outbreak of fever in one of the native villages and died. Since then the whole story has become regarded as something of a myth.'

  `Until Keely was sitting forward on the edge of her

  seat, her journalistic sense alive to the atmosphere Jason Colby had managed to create. 'There's more, isn't there? You've learned something that makes the whole story suddenly worth investigating. Is that it?' Jason laughed and shook his head. 'Either I'm particularly transparent or you're a mind-reader ! Yes, that's exactly it. Someone here saw a woman wearing an unusually large and brilliant orchid as a hair decoration in a village up towards the head of the Canidas quite recently. This same man had enough knowledge of botany to realise that it came from no known species and saw fit to pass on the information to my uncle. You might say Greg Stirling is a reliable enough source to make further investigation well worthwhile. That's where we're off to the day after tomorrow ... up the river Canidas. By all accounts it isn't going to be an easy ride. It's navigationally difficult and the rains are coming soon. We calculate we have about two weeks before the area becomes impassable. Once the rainy season really gets into its stride up there we've had it till well into next year.'

  `If this plant really exists it's been there at least sixty years,' Keely pointed out on a mild note. 'Surely it hardly matters whether you go after it this year or next if time's at a premium.'

  `Money is at a premium too. Financing another trip out here next
year might be beyond the Institute's present re- sources, whereas another week or two now isn't going to make all that much difference. Anyway, we need Greg Stirling to take us up river, and he may not still be in this part of the world in six months' time.'

  `A drifter?'

  `Something of one. I only just recently met him. Mark has known him for years.' A faint line crossed his forehead. `Not a type I find easy to get along with myself, but that isn't essential, I suppose.'

  `It might make life pleasanter for the next couple of weeks.' Keely wasn't fully listening, her thoughts leaping ahead on wings of anticipation. She knew little about botany as such herself, yet she hardly needed to be told what the discovery of a totally new species of orchid would mean in that particular world. She could possibly be in at the beginning of a real scoop for the magazine, particularly if she could get Sir Mark to let her accompany the expedition. What a spread that would make for the centre page : the Fire Flower itself filmed in its jungle setting ! They could run a reprint of Inman's original description; perhaps even use the whole passage dealing with the discovery; after sixty years or more it wouldn't even cost the magazine copyright fees. And her own account of the journey up the Canidas to find the orchid again might run alongside for comparison. The possibilities were endless. If she could swing it.

  Their tea had long since gone cold. Keely pushed her cup to one side and tapped long polished nails reflectively on the table surface as she considered her companion. 'Do you think you could persuade your uncle to see me?' she asked, and saw his expression alter.

  `Why? He won't want you saying anything at all about all this before we get back, and even then it will depend on what we find. You won't get him to verify anything.'

  `I don't want him to verify the facts,' she said. 'I want him to take me with you so that I can get them first hand.'

  Hazel eyes widened in a surprise bordering on disbelief. `You're joking.'

  `I'm not, you know. I'm a journalist on the trail of what sounds like a terrific story. In fact, it would be the biggest thing of my whole career to date.' She was eager and shining-eyed, desperate to convince him of her seriousness. `Please, Jason ... you don't mind if I call you that?'

  He shook his head bemusedly, the doubt still plainly written in his face. 'Even if you were serious he'd never agree,' he said at last. 'It isn't going to be any picnic up there.' His eyes dropped from her face down to her manicured hands, his smile tilted but lacking in mockery. 'You look more as though you belong in the pages of a magazine yourself, if you don't mind me saying so.'

  `Looks are only skin deep,' she responded. 'Inside I'm as tough as old nails !' His mouth curved in involuntary response to his grin, and she gave a little chuckle. 'All right, so that's going a bit far. But I am adaptable. If it's of any use, I took an Outward Bound course when I was sweet seventeen and passed with flying colours. I've camped out in all weathers, and I'm not prone to chills or fevers. Surely that means something?'

  Jason held up a hand laughingly. 'Look, I'm not the one you need to convince. Personally, I couldn't think of anything better than having you along, but you'll find my uncle a different proposition.'

  Green eyes sparkled. 'But you'll give me the chance to try? Thanks, Jason, I'm grateful.' She paused. 'Would it help if I altered my appearance a bit, do you think? I could always go back to my hotel and put on something more suited to jungle warfare ... and get rid of the nail polish.'

  `I don't think it's going to make the slightest difference what you look like,' he said frankly. 'You can't disguise the fact that you're female, and that's going to be the biggest obstacle to overcome.'

  She studied him. 'You mean your uncle doesn't like women?'

  `Of course he likes them. He's married to one. He's just old-fashioned enough to prefer not working with them, that's all.'

  `Well, he wouldn't be, would he? He'd be doing his job and I'd be doing mine.'

  Jason grinned and got to his feet. 'You can try that argument on him if you like. It should be interesting to hear the answer, if nothing else. Come on then, while the courage still burns in me. He's going to have my hide for telling you about all this in the first place !'

  The Colby suite was on the eighth floor overlooking the city in the direction of the river. Sir Mark was in the sitting room glancing through a loose-leaf folder when Jason took her in. He looked up at their entry, surprise in his eyes when he saw Keely. He was a man in his early fifties, tall and slimly built with a thin-featured, intelligent face beneath the iron-grey hair. He came to his feet with a litheness that betold perfect health and fitness, his glance on his nephew in some faint amusement.

  `I thought you were going down to see about a table for tonight?'

  `I did.' Jason drew Keely forward, looking suddenly as if he would as soon call the whole thing off. 'I met Miss Weston at the desk. She was asking to see you.'

  A frown overcame the amusement as the keen blue gaze came back to her and seemed for the first time to take in the camera case slung over her shoulder. 'Press?' he asked, and took her answer for granted, swinging back on his nephew in quick anger. 'just what is this, Jason? You know how important it was to me to keep this thing to ourselves ! Is a pretty face all it takes to make you forget a promise?' The last on a scathing note which brought a flush to the younger man's face. 'There's nothing ...'

  `I'm sorry,' Keely put in swiftly before he could say any more. 'It was entirely my fault. I persuaded your nephew to give me the details, but I already knew the reason for the expedition.' She hoped she could be forgiven the lie, but she had to defend Jason somehow. She met the angry glance with a straight one of her own. 'Sir Mark, I won't beat about the bush. I'd like to come with you up river to find this Fire Flower and write the story from my own experience. Will you take me?'

  Astonishment overcame anger in its turn. He stared at her blankly for a long moment, then gave a sudden short laugh. 'I'll say one thing for you, young woman, you're not

  without nerve ! Where do you think we're going ... on a Sunday jaunt up the Thames?'

  `No,' she returned with all the equability she could muster. 'You're going on a tough and probably rough trip into the depths of the Amazon via a little-known river route. With any luck you'll be bringing out samples of an orchid the world has never seen before, and I want to be there when you find it. It's as simple as that.'

  `Is it indeed?' Her tactics might not be having quite the effect she had hoped for, but at least they had produced some hint of tolerance in the cultured voice—even of a certain admiration. 'I must say, I like your spirit, even if your assessment could do with some adjustment. Tough and rough the trip may very well be, simple it most definitely will not be. I wouldn't dream of taking a woman along.'

  Keely caught Jason's eye and controlled her grimace at the 'I told you so' look. She wasn't finished yet. Not by a long chalk ! She was here with the Colbys and that was half the battle. Determination could swing the other half. It had to !

  `Do you say that because you think I'm incapable of standing the trip,' she asked, 'or because it annoys you to have women around when you're working?'

  The twitch of his lips was a step in the right direction if not the whole distance. 'Some other little details you gleaned from this nephew of mine?'

  She said blandly, 'You could call it a shrewd guess. I wouldn't get in your way, Sir Mark. I could sit at one end of the boat and you at the other if you'd prefer it that way.'

  `It's not that small a boat.' His eyes were twinkling now. `There's even a cabin.'

  `Then there's, no problem.' Keely twinkled right back. `I'd stay in there, speak only when spoken to ... even do the cooking if you like. I make a superb omelette.'

  `That could become monotonous.' He regarded her with quizzically lifted brows. 'Which publication do you work for?'

  She told him, trying hard not to sound too breathlessly anticipatory. It wasn't over yet. Not quite. But there was more than a hope. He even looked impressed at the mention of Wor
ld. And why not indeed? It was one of the top colour magazines on the market. She counted herself fortunate to be on the team.

  `You seem very young to have got this far in your type of work,' he commented. 'But I suppose that's a sign of age on my part.' He looked across at his nephew still standing in the same spot with a somewhat confused expression on his face. 'How about it, Jason? Do we sink our prejudices and take her with us?'

  The grin was slow and still not all that certain. 'I never had any. Do you really mean it?'

  `I wouldn't say it if I didn't.' He sighed and pulled a face. `I only hope I'm not going to regret it, that's all !'

  `You won't, I promise.' Keely was jubilant. She had won. Against all the odds, she had won ! She was going with the expedition. Her mind shot ahead again considering the priorities. First a cable to Ben Reynolds advising him of her delayed return; though it was going to be necessary to go easy on the details, of course. If the Fire Flower did turn out to be a myth after all she was going to have some explaining to do, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. Ben would be the first to agree on that point.

  Second, she was going to need some suitable kit. Jason would no doubt help her with that one. Jason had been a wonderful help already, come to that. Without him she mightn't have got in to see Sir Mark at all.

  `I think under the circumstances you'd better join us at dinner tonight,' the latter said now with the look of a man suddenly in doubt of his own good sense. 'I'm not sure how

  you talked me into this, and I've a strong feeling I'm going to wish I hadn't allowed it, but I don't go back on my word. We're eating at eight here in the hotel. You'll need to meet our guide.' The last on a certain wry note. 'That should prove your mettle, if nothing else does !'

  `I'll be here on the dot.' Keely was too full of exhilaration to take much heed of what he was saying. She had faced the chief obstacle and overcome it. What did this Greg Stirling's opinion matter? He could disapprove as much as he liked of her inclusion in the party. She was going, and that was that.